Reluctance
by AilovU
Summary: There's something strange going on on the continent of Gait underneath the celebrations and preparations for the crowning of the new king. And they seem to center around Albel. Nel, pulled into it, can only hope they get out alive...


Albel glared hatefully up at the sky that darkened above him as he wiped green monster blood of his katana. It challenged him with its roar and flashing lights. But he could do nothing about the storm to come.

Because you cannot fight the inevitable.

Because two unstoppable forces can't come to a head and both come out unscathed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Nel Zelpher stared at the skies in the distance worriedly. The storm did not bode well for the soldiers she had transporting the food in the covered wagons pulled by lum behind her. It looked to be coming their way fast from Arias. She turned and yelled past the wind, which had suddenly picked up. "Hurry it up! We need to at least make it to Peterny!"

The sounds of whips crackled throughout the air as her subordinates pushed the lum further, their cries of protest following in a chorus of bellows and grunts.

---------

"350 Fol, ma'am."

She gave up the money without a word. She was being cheated, she knew, but she was too weary to protest the injustice. The storm had overtaken them just as her and her unit came within sight of the gates of Peterny. _Sometimes it feels like the Apris himsel is against my every action_. She thought bitterly to herself. The skies rumbled as if to counter this blasphemous thought of hers.

She sighed. It was wrong to question her religion like this, she knew, but going up against the "Creator" (or rather, "Luther") had made her review everything she believed in. She once thought her morals and views were as immovable and unchangeable as steel, only to find that they were as easily shaken and as weak as bread.

She ate her dinner in silence. It was deafening. It pressed in on her from every angle, reminding her that the 'gang' had seperated and gone back to their respective sides of the universe. Fayt and Sophia had gone back to Earth where he studied genetics and symbology like his father to delve more into what he, Sophia, and Maria were. Sophia pursued a career as a voice actress for the games to had so passionately hated before. Maria was still in command of the Diplo where Steeg, Marietta, Cliff, and Mirage served under her.

She still visited from time to time. Cliff had confessed to Mirage, who had almost no reaction. That man could not hide his feelings. She was 'going out' with him, but they carried on as usual.

As she went over the group one by one in her head she realized she was forgetting someone. Albel. He had disappeared after they got back without a single word.

She figured this hurt him the most. She knew he trusted Fayt and them with his life, only to have that ripped away from him.

He was crowned successor to the throne of Airyglyph if anything should ever happen to the present King. Apris knows what the hell he was thinking. Or what Albel's reaction had been.

Strangely, the public didn't mind not including the few political radicals here and there.

A commotion outside broke her train of thought and she jumped up, grabbing her daggers and running outside to the stables, where the lum and the cargo resided.

She saw a bunch of soldiers in a ring, surrounding what she imagined to be a fist fight, for lack of the sound of ringing steel. THen she noticed they were muttering and not cheering. "Move, soldier, or it'll be your head." She ordered, pushing them out of the way. Her amethyst eyes widened at the sight.

Albel Nox.

He was passed out in the corner, bloody from countless battles. There were dark circles under his closed eyes, his hair was disheveled and unkempt, falling out of its long bindings. His clothes were tattered and torn. Though most of the blood was not his own he had many injuries scattered over his pale skin.

She saw his twitch and he wearily opened his eyes, filmy with sickness. "Worm." he rasped in acknowledgement. The men behind her began to yell, protesting the insult that escaped his cracked and bleeding lips. She silenced them with a hand. "Albel, what happened. You look Death just knocked on your front door." He chuckled drily, then coughed. "You could say that."

She gave him a funny look and then reached out, runology surrounding her hand in a shining blue light. He hid her hand away. "I don't need your help." he protested weakly. She stared, "You will die of poisoning. Monster blood has entered your veins and is causing your fever and weakness."

"Don't ever called me weak." he snapped, eyes clearing up. She sighed, too tired to argue.

He glared. "Don't even think about-"

"I'm sorry, Albel. But it has to be done."

She nodded and the man who had snuck up behind him knocked him out with a swift blow to the base of his neck.

--------

The sound of water dripping woke Albel. He glanced to his left through heavily lidded eyes. A woman with purple hair sat at his side, wringing out a small washcloth.

He stared.

She noticed. Farleen grinned and he braced himself for her irritatingly high pitched voice to start its assault on his poor eardrums.

Then he noticed they were moving, and that the ceiling was cloth and his surroundings were boxes and crates. The sound of hooves hitting a dirt road and Nel yelling out orders to her unit hit his ears.

Farleen silently (thanks the gods) placed the washcloth on his forehead. He allowed it only because he was too tired to resist. He closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep again as his hearing tunneled.

----------

"...look like the famed murderer with such a peaceful look on his face, does he, Nel?" _What an irritatingly high voice...._

"Yeah. I don't know what happened to him, but for him to be beat up that bad is beyond rare. Somethings up." _Zelpher._

"Lady Nel, your fortune with men this week is only three stars. It's gone down!" gasped another voice. He opened his eyes just in time to see red that tinted Nel's cheeks. "Shut up, Tynave."

She was leaned up against the wall next to his head, Farleen was at his feet braiding her hair. Tynave was at a table playing...cards?

He stifled a groan as he sat up, a washcloth falling off his head. He noticed they were in a hotel in Aquios instead of in a wagon and wondered how they moved him without his noticing. Nel noticed the spark of curiosity. "You slept like a rock, Albel. We actually crashed the cart you were in and had to do repairs. You didn't notice a thing." She hid a smile in her scarf. He tried to move his right arm, but nothing responded. His gauntlet was gone.

"Yeah, it was really funny!" chipped in the ever naive Farleen. Albel winced at her decibel count and trained his sharpened glare onto her violet head. "Shut it, maggot."

"What were you doing there, covered in monster blood?" asked Tynave. What a professional. Always right to the point.

"I was exploring some newly discovered caves for Airyglyph when there was a cave-in and the floor beneath me collapsed. What's the date?"

"The 24th of Irisa's month, why?"

"Then I was trapped in there for fourteen days. There were monsters I've never seen before, stronger even than those goddamned 'Executioners'." He grunted, looking around for his katana.

"We took it to be repaired." _Ah._

"Your gauntlet was taken to Greeton by a runner. Farleen noticed you couldn't move it in the wagon.

It had been broken for half the days he was trapped, but he wasn't going to tell them that.

"That still doesn't explain how you ended up in Peterny stables. That's across Gait from Airyglyph.

"I ended up in Irisa fields and was going to the inn when I saw someone in the stables I thought I knew, so I tried to cut him. But he knocked he down, slashed my back, and flew off."

"Well, that ex-wait. Flew off?!" The red head's eyes narrowed.

There was a knock at the door, interrupting what was surely going to turn into an interrogation. Claire entered without permission, nodding her head to Albel. "The Queen wishes to see you now that you're awake."

The women left him to get dressed. He pulled on an altered version of his usual uniform. The shirt covered his middle and the sarong was accompanied by pants and combat boots. At least his cloak had escaped unscathed. He pulled it onto his shoulders, the familiar raven feathers tickling his neck as he tied it around his neck.


End file.
